Places where not much happens

We need places where not much happens – to remind us that most of life is not about things happening – not about grand adventures – not about exciting things one after the other. We need places where not much happens to let us enjoy by reflection – to let us just be. To let us just know.

We need places where not much happens – so we can watch the clouds move lazily across a deep blue sky to the gentle rhythm of the upper atmosphere – so we can watch the haphazard flight of a hummingbird flitting from flower to flower, its wings a blur, its head by turns shining azure, red, emerald in the afternoon sun – so we can watch a caterpillar trundle its slow way across a sun baked patio, almost run over by a tiny lizard racing to stand stock still for no discernable reason.

We need places where not much happens – to sit, coffee in hand, with good friends talking about nothing and everything, listening to the familiar cadences of loved voices, hearing the laughter behind the gentle teasing, the music of a long friendship made in places like this, for times like this.

We need places where not much happens – to think deeply about things that matter and things that don’t matter, in no particular order – to enjoy considering the wonder of grace and forgiveness and mercy and unspeakable sacrifice that makes places where not much happens possible and necessary, so great is the overwhelm of love in action.

We need places where not much happens – to let the heat of a painful conversation seep into the bedrock of commitment that makes such conversations possible, and necessary – to allow space and time for healing the wounds caused by words spoken harshly, too quickly, fueled by defensive anger – to let spoken and unspoken forgiveness reshape and heal the brokenness that comes from risking love – to know that we wouldn’t have it any other way, for this is what it means to be human and in relationship with others like us.

We need places where not much happens – to rest in the deep love of One Who knows completely, but still loves profoundly and Whose love makes all other loves possible – to let soak in the soul shaping reality of we are in Him – to be awash in gratitude, in thanksgiving which has no words and for which words are many, some spoken.

We need places where not much happens.